


Lessons Learned

by shewhoguards



Category: Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoguards/pseuds/shewhoguards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You may go every year, for a week, for spring cleaning,” Wendy offered Jane as a compromise “But no more than that – you must promise to come home to me!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons Learned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LostWendy1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostWendy1/gifts).



“You may go every year, for a week, for spring cleaning,” Wendy offered Jane as a compromise “But no more than that – you must promise to come home to me!”

Such a generous mother, to allow her heart’s own treasure to pass so freely out of her hands and risk it never returning! Indeed, her heart smarted at the idea of Jane being away from her for a day – nay, an hour! There would be a week’s worth of scratches and cuts she would be unable to heal with a loving kiss (quite the best remedy, you will agree), a week without anyone to tell Jane to eat her vegetables (when you grow older, you will learn just how much love your mother put into this daily task), and, most hurtfully, a week with no-one to comb through Jane’s dreams, placing the nightmares aside and sending the child into a sweet deep sleep.

“He has no mother to look after him,” Jane had offered simply as the reason she must go, and Wendy knew well the pull that could provide to a little girl – the pull of a boy with only his baby teeth still, and no-one to protect him and tuck him up safe at night. It was only those same sweet pearly baby teeth that could have ever compelled her to agree to such an thing, for it is difficult to deny that such a child needs a mother.

But she knew too what would happen when Jane reached Neverland. There would be new Lost Boys now, for it was never long before Peter found some boy silly enough to take a tumble out of his perambulator and leave behind a guilty nursemaid and bereft parents. New children, all of them motherless and not knowing any better than to eat damp cake, or exercise after a meal, or so many of the other things our mothers exist to counsel us against. Jane was a responsible girl, and how could any responsible girl leave such boys to look after themselves?

And so Wendy regretted her offer, and thought that perhaps it was a little too generous.

I regret to tell you that in the week approaching the time when Peter would return, Wendy used methods to dissuade Jane from going which could not possibly be regarded as good form, nor even fair play. As children can be selfish, and use nasty sneaky methods to get their own way, so adults too can be selfish. This applies especially to parents who fear they may lose their children and do not wish to share. So, Wendy filled the days before Jane left with many an exciting plan for trips, or parties, or games, and then would shoot a sideways look at Jane and exclaim “Oh, but you won’t be here on that day! Such a shame!”

“You could just forbid her from going,” said her husband, sensible Robert, who saw little point in such games. “Close the window and bar it. This boy will soon forget from what you have said of him and Jane will get over it.”

“I said she could go,” said Wendy, hesitant to go back on her word.

Robert shrugged. “Say she cannot. Or I will. We are her parents, we are allowed to forbid things.”

It was sensible advice, and perhaps Wendy should have followed it. Every time she opened her mouth to do so however she saw Peter’s face, aghast and hurt that Hook could do something that was unfair to him. She could not bear to put that expression on Jane’s face, not just now. (Of course, all parents will eventually do something that is unfair to their children – that is the way of parenting – but you must not imagine they do so eagerly. Small children must be taught that life is unfair, but many a parent has wished bitterly that this were not the way of things.)

On the last night before Peter was due to return, Wendy drew her daughter onto her lap and held her tightly, trying to memorise the feel of it so that she might better remember it when Jane was gone.

“It is all right, Mother,” said Jane placidly, quite understanding what her mother was feeling. “I will soon be home again.” Oh, the easy confidence of childhood, so very certain that it will never be tempted away from the path of what is right and true!

“I am sure you will.” But Wendy did not hold her any less tightly for all that. “Darling,” she said slowly, “if you are going to go away there is something you must remember. Peter will tell you many tales about growing up, and how terrible it is, and how it is to be avoided. Jane, if you are to go away, you must remember that growing up is something we all must do. It is not something to be avoided, or run from, it is something that will come in time.”

“I know that, Mother,” Jane replied, quite unconcerned by her mother’s worries. “That is why I must go, do you see? He has no-one grown up to look after him.”

The words made Wendy’s heart quiver inside her, for she quite feared that she might lose Jane to be Peter’s little mother forever. “That is not quite what I meant,” she said, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “Just as being grown up is nothing to run from, nor is it something to run to, especially not just because there is no one grown up around you and you feel you must take that place.”

“Then what do you mean?” And Jane turned a puzzled face up to her. “If I am not to grow up, and I am not to not grow up, what am I to do?”

Wendy hesitated, and for a moment she was not sure herself, but then the words were there and waiting for her. She stroked the hair from Jane’s forehead, dropping a loving kiss where it had been. “You are to enjoy the growing up, my love, for that is what Peter can never do,” she said gently. “Make mistakes as a child does, knowing that the world will not end because of them, but do what Peter cannot do, and remember them. He must forget, you know, because as we learn from our mistakes and grow better, we grow older, better able to cope with things.”

“He must have learnt how to fight the pirates!” Jane protested.

Wendy shook her head. “No, darling, I don’t think he did. He knew, and he knew because he was Peter Pan, but that is not the same as learning. Learning means admitting to yourself that you have been wrong, and Peter could never do that.”

Jane pushed her lower lip out slightly, thinking. “But then, don’t you wish me to be his mother?”

“I don’t wish you to be afraid of being wrong,” Wendy told her. “Being afraid to be wrong is something grown ups learn, and it is a terrible thing. It causes us not to act when we should, and to argue when we have that it must have been the right action if it was the one that we took. But, darling, we begin to do that when we try to look after others, because we are afraid that our being wrong may get them hurt.”

“Are you afraid of being wrong then?”

Only a mother could have understood the sadness in Wendy’s smile. “When it involves you? All the time.”

“Hm!” Jane studied her for a long moment. “I will be careful.”

“Do,” Wendy urged her. “And… do not let yourself fall in love with Peter Pan. It will be hard, but do not. He cannot learn, and he cannot remember, and he will break your heart because he will forget that you cannot help but grow up. Peter Pan could never remember such a thing. He will not break your heart on purpose, Jane, he will break it because the world is so full of fairies, and magic, and exciting things that it is impossible to keep you in his mind for more than a day at a time, and he will forget that time still passes when he is not looking at it.”

Jane stared at her at that. It is possible that she was comparing her own sensible, staid father with the quicksilver being that was Peter Pan. Impossible to say who came out better from the comparison. “You loved Peter Pan.”

“I loved Peter Pan,” her mother agreed, just the slightest quiver in her voice. “Which is why – Jane, listen! – which is why I know you must be careful.”

“I will be careful,” Jane said again, and squirmed until Wendy released her, sliding off her mother’s knee. “I will be careful. I’m quite sensible, you know, Mother.”

“I know,” Wendy agreed, but there was a melancholy note in her voice and heartbreak in her eyes as she let Jane into her bed, leaning over to tuck her in. “I know you are.”

“Good night, Mother.” And that was clear dismissal. Jane shut her eyes, content the conversation was over.

Wendy sighed and shut the curtains, watching her daughter settle into sleep before she tiptoed towards the door. She knew of course that Jane was utterly confident that she could take care of herself in Neverland. But she also knew, with the wisdom only held by mothers, that no matter what she warned or how she phrased it, Jane would fall in love with Peter Pan. There was nothing she could say to prevent that, nothing that would ease the pain. She could only be there to comfort the first time spring cleaning week came and Peter Pan did not appear.

Some things children had to learn for themselves.


End file.
